He's No Murrow, He's Stewart, and That's Plenty

Even before I joined CBS News as a network radio consultant in 1997,
Edward R. Murrow was a hero of mine. In college, in the mid-1980s, I
devoured A.M. Sperber's Murrow:
His Life and Times and still have the paperback on my bookshelves.
It sits next to Murrow's own work, This
is London, the transcription of his famous CBS Radio broadcasts
from London during the Blitz, and the magnificent In
Search Of Light, which ought to be required reading in journalism
schools and newsrooms everywhere. I also have the memorable This
I Believe series, two wonderful photographs of Murrow hanging in my
home—he's smoking in both—and a signed letter Murrow sent on
September 4, 1952 to one Clarence Allen of the Tulsa Tribune apologizing
for not being able to write "the article" Allen had requested. I am by
no means a Murrow expert. And I'm not looking for a tussle with his
biographers. But he's not an ancient, remote figure to me, either.

Which is why I'm taking the time to chime in on the "debate" over
whether Jon Stewart deserves to be compared with Murrow ("ERM" in
internal CBS-speak) because of the work Comedy Central's grandmaster did
a few weeks ago in transforming the public debate over the recent 9/11 Responders'
legislation. As most of you know by now, Stewart became furious
earlier this month after Senate Republicans, including some of the
biggest post-9/11 loudmouths, filibustered the popular measure which was
designed to give health care benefits to workers sickened by the toxic
dust at Ground Zero. Stewart spoke out aggressively against the
political hypocrisy and journalistic apathy surrounding the measure in
one of his show-opening monologues in mid-December before carefully
choreographing an entire show to the issue before the show's
Christmas break. Many people—and I am one of them—believe that Stewart's
humor-infused ranting and raving changed political momentum, if not
actual votes, in favor of the measure. A few days after he had exposed
them to a great deal of public rancor and scorn, the Republicans
compromised and the bill passed. A happy ending.

But then National
Public Radio and the New York Times (and others) wrote about
Stewart's role in helping pass the legislation—with the old Gray Lady herself
first playing the Murrow
card. This has prompted a genuine, old-school kerfuffle, with all
sorts of folks interrupting their holiday breaks to discuss the
comparison and/or to declare that Jon Stewart is no Ed Murrow. The first
thing I'd like to say here is: Where were all these people before, when
the 9/11 responders really needed them? And the second thing I'd like
to say is: Stewart doesn't need to be the next Murrow to play a
significant and laudable role in the public life of this country. The
men, their deeds, and their times defy easy comparison. Stewart has
become an eloquent and eminent public prosecutor against much that is
wrong about Washington (and sometimes the people who cover it). Murrow
risked his life during World War II to change the nature of broadcast
news forever, eventually stood up to McCarthyism, and then held out as
long as he could against the corrupting influence of money and politics
in television news. If Murrow had done one of these things, he would be
revered today. That he did all three helps explain why Murrow was
probably the single most important journalist of the 20th Century.

Jon
Stewart may or may not be the most important journalist of the 21th
Century—it's early still, plus he'd have to cop to the label and I'm not
sure he would. But it should be clear from this episode, if it somehow
weren't before, that Stewart (Murrow-like, you might say) wields
enormous power and prestige through the medium of television (and the
Internet). He showed it this fall with his well-attended Washington
rally, he shows it each week with his ratings among younger viewers and
the nation's political elite, and he clearly raised his game a notch
with his searing light on how official Washington was screwing up the
responders' health bill. I give credit to the Times and others for at
least trying to cover that aspect of this story. The comparison to
Murrow, which came off as facile in the Times piece, has some merit. It
just wasn't explained well enough. Nor, alas, was the mainstream media's
generally miserable
failure—also highlighted by Stewart—in covering the 9/11
responders' legislation before Stewart's broadcasts. Stewart didn't just
blast the Congress, remember, he blasted news organizations, too, for
the latest example of their chronically short attention spans.

When
Murrow took
on Sen. Joseph McCarthy nearly half a century ago, he had far more
to lose than Stewart did when he lobbied for the federal legislation.
Murrow was standing up to bullies—horrible, powerful bullies—who might
have ended his career and destroyed his network. By comparison, Stewart
was merely speaking out against the way politics and journalism too
often works in Washington. But both Murrow and Stewart dramatically
changed public perceptions about a current event. Both men stuck their
necks out. Both went first into a sort of no-man's-land. It is probably
true that only Murrow in his time had the bona fides to stand up to
McCarthy (and don't forget, Murrow waited years before doing so). But of
all the media people who could have stood up in late 2010 for the
brave, sick men and women who went into the rubble of September 11, 2001
only Stewart had both the will and the chops to do so in earnest. Does
that make his courage any less impressive? Not in my book. Not when
compared with so many other broadcasters and journalists who thought
they had more important stories to file.

Courage in
broadcasting, or in journalism in general, is not a zero sum game.
Praising Stewart for his "mad as hell ain't gonna take it anymore"
moment is no slight to Murrow or any other journalist who risks
criticism and vitriol for speaking truth to power. Any comparison
between the men diminishes neither. Let the historians and biographers
correct me if I am wrong, but I believe Murrow would have applauded
Stewart's role in redirecting public opinion back to some of the heroes
who ran toward the rubble in Lower Manhattan in September 2001. And I
believe Murrow would have endorsed Stewart's critical view of the
media's role in the affair—especially the navel-gazing that has
occurred since the passage of the legislation. Murrow may have searched
for light but he is known today for the passion, the heat, he brought to
his best work. I believe history will judge Stewart similarly, in this
instance and hopefully again in the future.